


Shadows

by Lynds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chronic Illness, M/M, Pain, Paternal Instinct, Poor Draco, Protective Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 23:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18537319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: Sirius lives, but he's finding forgiveness and reconciliation a little harder than his Godson. How Harry can stand to be around that little Malfoy shit all the time just makes no sense. So when Draco sneaks off during a picnic, Sirius follows. It's better to catch him in the act of... whatever he's up to, than let him betray Harry.





	Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [donnarafiki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/gifts).



> This was based on one of Donna's prompts on the Drarry discord, I couldn't resist! Thank you so much to Bblgumbby for beta-ing and pointing out exactly what it needed!

Sirius narrowed his eyes at Draco Malfoy as the kid leaned up against Harry. Harry, trusting little idiot that he was, wrapped his arm around Malfoy and kissed him on the temple, murmuring a question into his ear. Malfoy just nodded, his gaze distant.

Sirius knew he was up to something. The war may be over, they may all be trying to move on, but Malfoy had been a _Death Eater_. Death Eaters didn’t just suddenly turn into decent human beings, especially little shitty Slytherins who’d been absolute bastards to Harry during school. Harry was way too trusting.

And Regulus didn’t count, Sirius told himself firmly. He’d been pushed into Voldemort’s service too young, just trying to be the good son. He’d been a hero and never expected any thanks for it and Sirius wasn’t going to think about his little brother right now. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists and pushed all his regrets and grief to the back of his mind where he might, one day, deal with it.

And Snivelus didn’t count either, he thought, watching the Malfoy kid shift and grimace. Sure, Harry insisted Snape was a hero and had been watching out for him for the last seven years, but he’d had a funny way of showing it, punishing Harry for everything that had passed between the Marauders and Snape years ago. Spy for the Light he may have been, but he was still an arsehole. There were more ways to be a dick than just being a Death Eater, and Malfoy had pretty much all those boxes ticked.

He glared as Malfoy pushed himself to his feet and excused himself with a little fake smile to the group. Excused himself to go where? It was a fucking picnic, there wasn’t anywhere to go, and the public loos were in the other direction. 

This was ridiculous. Harry may have asked them all to put the past behind them but there was a difference between moving on with life and inviting the enemy in to stab you in the back. Sirius excused himself as well. Enough time had passed that nobody would think anything of it, and he was going to follow the little shit, find out what he was planning.

It’s not like he _wanted_ to find the brat doing anything wrong. It would break Harry’s heart, and Harry had had quite enough of that kind of trauma in his short life. Sirius had caused his own cracks in his godson’s heart, nearly dying in the ministry like that, and he didn’t want to see Harry hurt any more. But if he left it, and Malfoy betrayed Harry, as he inevitably would, well, that kind of damage could be irreparable, and Sirius wasn’t prepared to watch that happen.

The woods thickened as he walked, and Sirius frowned, wondering where the hell Malfoy had been heading. There was nothing in this direction, even the paths were trailing off to nothing, and he was about to get his wand out for a Revelio, when he heard a bitten off whimper.

He spun around, heart pounding. Someone was hurt, and badly if the sound was any indication. He pushed the branches aside, following the ragged breaths and tiny, pained noises. His foot slipped on the soft earth of a shallow bank, and he grabbed a branch to catch himself - and froze.

Draco Malfoy was curled up in the dirt, his face contorted and stained with tears. He looked up at Sirius, eyes widening in horror, and then his head dropped forwards again, hitting the ground with a thud, and he moaned, clutching his abdomen, his legs coming up into a foetal position.

Sirius hurried forwards, his mind blank of anything but _panic, danger, solve_ , and hauled the boy up. Malfoy whimpered, his fingers scrabbling into Sirius’ shirt, clutching so hard his knuckles went white, and Sirius carried him up to the bare ground. Malfoy’s whole body was trembling, every muscle tense with pain. “What’s going on? What happened? Were you bitten, poisoned? What?”

Malfoy didn’t answer, and when Sirius lowered him to the floor again, trying to lay him out to check him over for the source of his agony, he pressed closer to Sirius’ chest, his face buried against his shirt.

He was seeking comfort, Sirius realised, something hurting deep in his chest. He sat down cross legged, resting the boy on his lap, and petting his hair. “It’s OK, kid, we’ll get you help. You’ll be OK, you’re alright. It’s all going to be fine.” He had no idea if it was a lie.

At last Malfoy seemed to sag, the pain retreating, leaving him panting and sweaty, eyes shut. “Hey. Hey, kid, wake up, you’ve got to tell me what the matter is. We’ll get you to St Mungo’s, but I can’t apparate from--”

“No!” Malfoy croaked. “No, please, don’t… it’s… they can’t do anything.”

Sirius frowned. “How do you know?”

Malfoy sagged against his chest again. “Just how it is. Always will be.”

“What are you talking about? Is this some sort of blood curse? Does Harry know?”

Malfoy shook his head. “Crucio damage,” he said, his voice slurring. 

Sirius felt the horror flow over him like cold water poured over his head. “Crucio…”

He looked down at the boy curled in his arms, his face slackening with exhaustion. He was Harry’s age. He was only a child - no matter what Harry kept telling him, nineteen wasn’t really adulthood. “You were Crucioed? When?”

Draco waved his hand, his eyes still shut, face still pressed against Sirius’ chest. “Lots ‘a times. Aunt Bella, Rookwood… _Him_. He even… he even made my father do it once. Didn’t work. Guess Father loves me more than I thought.”

“And now--”

“It’s fine, sir,” Draco said. “It’s not all the time. Just every now and then.”

“Does Harry know?” Sirius asked, to stop himself from spiralling down into horror. 

“Yeah,” Draco breathed. “He cries when he sees it though… didn’t want to spoil the party.”

Sirius swallowed. Swallowed again. He was not going to cry. “Is… is there anything they can do?”

Draco shook his head, then took a deep breath and sat up. He shifted off Sirius’ lap, rubbing his face. Sirius found he had his arms outstretched, ready to catch him, and brought his hands back down to his lap. Draco flickered a glance at him. “It helps when someone’s there,” he said softly. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I know you don’t--”

Sirius couldn’t bear to hear how Draco knew he disapproved of him, not now. Not ever. “Is there anything else I can do?” he asked. “Now or in the future?”

Draco met his eyes. “Uh, a cleaning charm would make me feel…”

Sirius nodded and cast it carefully, not wanting to shock or stress the overwrought nerves. He stood and held his hand out to the boy. Draco took it and stumbled to his feet. “You OK?” he asked, taken aback by how gentle he sounded. Maybe he was finally starting to get the hang of this paternal thing.

Draco nodded and Sirius put his arm around him as they started to walk slowly back to the picnic. “This OK?”

Draco nodded and leaned against him. Sirius supposed he was too tired to feel self-conscious.

“Listen,” Sirius said. “I don’t want you to go off by yourself again like this. I get you don’t want to upset Harry, I don’t either. But going off and hiding in the forest like this - what if you fell? You might get injured - more than the… the Crucio spasms, I mean.” He gulped, horror at what the boy had experienced rising up his throat. He wouldn’t think of it, he wouldn’t. He nodded to himself. “You come find me, next time, OK? If you don’t want Harry to have to deal with it, let me. Please?”

Draco looked up at him, tired grey eyes searching. “Look,” Sirius said, rolling his own eyes. “I want what’s best for Harry, right? And you…” he sighed. “You’re apparently good for him. So that means I get over my bullshit and look after you, too.”

Draco smirked, the Slytherin starting to reassert itself in his poise. “How difficult are you finding this speech right now, Mr Black?”

Sirius bit his lip. “Not as hard as you’d think, actually.” He looked at Draco. “You’re a kid. You’re still a teenage boy, and you’re in the kind of pain no child should never have to suffer. You weren’t even of age when this bullshit started, were you?” He paused for Draco’s silence to mean something to both of them. “You shouldn’t have to deal with it, but you do. And now you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

They emerged from the wooded area into the meadow, the little party coming into view. Draco straightened up, quickly checking over his clothes for twigs and leaves, and Sirius, wanting to give him his dignity, let his hand drop from his shoulder. He hovered close, though, the kid was still pretty shaky on his feet.

Hermione was the first to see them, and nudged Harry. He turned and leaped up, running over, his nervous smile obvious from the start. Sirius ached to see, really see everything behind that smile. Harry looked so much like James that Sirius had called him by his father’s name once or twice, a slip of the tongue. But that was where the similarities ended, he could see it now. Harry was stubborn, bullheaded and sharp-tongued, more like Lily than James. But there was a yawning depth of vulnerability under that, the way he looked between Draco and Sirius, his eyes guarded as he got closer, hopeful, and yet not daring to hope.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his gaze flickering between them, but lingering on Draco, searching for the pain Draco was hiding so well.

Draco nodded, giving Harry a small but genuine smile. Damn. How had Sirius not seen this? The kid looked at Harry like James had looked at Lils. Like Sirius still looked at Remus.

Sirius swallowed hard and patted Draco’s shoulder gently, more of a squeeze, really. “We’re good now,” he said. Draco looked up at Sirius and nodded.

And Harry smiled, pure and sweet, and the way Sirius wanted to see him smile every day of a long and peaceful life. He stood watching for a moment as Harry wrapped his arm around Draco’s waist and the two boys walked back to the picnic, heads bent together in hope and love, the sun casting long shadows behind them.


End file.
